


The Night Before

by orphan_account



Category: The Martian (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 12:00:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5784565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The crew goes out for a drink. Chris takes Mark home with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Night Before

“Come on in,” Chris said giddily, stumbling over the threshold and holding his front door wide open.

Mark walked inside, looking around in the dark. A small, slender cat slinked by, rubbing up against his legs, and he bent over to scoop it up.

“Cutie,” he slurred, scratching the creature behind its smooth, satiny ear. “Who’s this?”

“That’s Teddy,” Chris said. He closed and locked the door behind them and took off his jacket, letting it fall to the floor.

“Teddy? As in...? You did not name your cat after the director of NASA.”

Chris shrugged with a smile, turning on the light in his pristine kitchenette. “Told you I was a nerd. Can I get you anything? Water?”

“I probably should drink some water.” Mark walked unsteadily over to one of the bar stools and sat down, letting out a soft little, “Whoa,” as the action brought on a sudden drunken dizziness. Teddy settled into his arms. “What time are we supposed to be there tomorrow?”

“7:00AM.”

“And what time is it now?”

Chris squinted at his watch and chuckled. “2:30.”

“Goddamn.”

They were taking off for Mars the next morning, and the Ares III crew had decided to go out for a drink to celebrate their last night on Earth - for a long while, at least.

On their first day of training, nearly a year ago, Chris had made some offhand comment about how Mark must _be the only man alive who looks good in a spacesuit_. That had kicked off their harmless little back and forth - unabashed flirting, good-natured teasing. Once, about halfway through their training, on the first night they all went out together, Mark had casually draped an arm around Chris’ broad shoulders. The other man had responded by settling into Mark’s side, at one point nudging his nose into the underside of Mark’s jaw as he laughed at something Vogel said.

Outside of their work at NASA, this was this extent of how physical they’d been with one another, and Mark honestly hadn’t expected it to go any further than that. Tonight, however, once everyone at the table had gotten just enough alcohol in their systems to be loose and careless, Chris had placed one hand high up on Mark’s thigh, squeezing a bit and rubbing his thumb back and forth over Mark’s jeans. Mark hadn’t minded, but when there was a lull in the conversation and that hand suddenly scooted even farther up, dipping in between his legs, he’d given Chris a heated look that successfully imparted, _Let’s get out the fuck of here_.

They’d made out a little bit during the cab ride to Chris’ apartment - nothing too scandalous, just a slow series of sweet, lazy, drunken kisses, Chris clutching loosely at Mark’s jacket, Mark’s hand on the back of Chris’ neck.

He had no expectations for the night. If he got to blow Chris, cool. If they had sex, great. If they ended up just laying in bed talking all night, awesome. Dr. Beck had become one of Mark’s favorite people to spend time with: he was funny and smart and sexy and interesting, he challenged Mark, he made Mark look at things from a different perspective. In the short time they’d known one another, Mark had developed a ridiculous crush of the high school variety.

Chris handed him a cool glass of water over the counter, reaching down to pick up Teddy and cradle him close. “You can crash here, if you want. I’ve got a big bed. Teddy won’t mind.”

“As long as it’s okay with the cat.”

Chris smiled, and Mark felt a sort of fluttering in his stomach. Those sharp eyes, glazed over a bit from the alcohol, watched Mark as he downed the glass in one long gulp. When he finished, they looked at each other for a while, the same dopey smile on both of their faces.

Mark stood up and took off his jacket, laying it over the stool. He walked around to Chris and stood in front of him, close enough to kiss him again.

“Who’s gonna feed him when you’re gone?” he asked, brushing his thumb along the cat’s furry cheek.

“Johanssen’s sister. I’m gonna drop him off in the morning.” Without breaking eye contact, Chris set his cat down on the floor and then reached up to wrap his arms around Mark’s neck. “I’m really glad you came over.”

“Me, too,” Mark said, putting his hands on Chris' hips. He leaned in to kiss him and had to stifle a yawn.

“Tired?” Chris asked with a chuckle.

“A little bit.”

“We can go get in bed. To sleep, I mean.” He moved in closer to nudge his nose against Mark’s. “We’re gonna be stuck together in space; I can always get my hands all over you then.”

He took Mark’s hand and led him out of the kitchen, turning off the light as they went. There was just enough space in his bedroom for one massive, cozy bed with a table on either side of it, along with a small desk tucked into the far corner. Mark toed off his sneakers and stretched out on the mattress, taking Chris in his arms as the other man lowered himself half on top of Mark, carding his fingers through Mark’s hair as he leaned down to kiss him.

They kissed for several long, blissful moments, warm in their limbs from the whiskey, sleepy, giddy. Chris stroking his hair was soothing, and Mark had almost dozed off when Chris whispered against his lips, “You sleep in your jeans, Watney?”

He stifled another yawn. “Sometimes.”

In the dim moonlight, he could see Chris biting his plush lower lip as he sat up and unbuttoned Mark’s jeans. He crawled off the bed for a moment to pull them down and off of Mark, folding them neatly and then setting them on the carpet. He took his own jeans off and pulled his shirt up over his head, tossing the garments to the side. Mark shifted over to let Chris pull down the covers and they both crawled underneath them, tangling their legs together.

“I should set an alarm for 5:00, maybe,” Mark muttered, making no move to do so, entirely too comfortable. “Gives me enough time to go home and grab my things.”

“You want a ride?”

“If you don’t mind the early hour.”

“I don’t mind.”

Chris reached down to the floor and fished his cell phone out of his jeans. That handsome face glowed before Mark’s eyes as the other man quickly set an alarm and then placed his phone on one of the bedside tables. He settled back into Mark’s arms and closed his eyes.

“Goodnight, Mark Watney.”

“Goodnight.”


End file.
